papRika

(Skya, Pixel, Jack be Nimble and Ozzie)

Four Cats
I’m moulded into slumber,
curved around half-moons,
as four bold bodies
knead me in the night.

My folds expand, then furl,
holding and releasing fur;
my bosom is spooned hollow,
my legs scooped out;

and so transmuted
I’m wedged in comfort -
nudged and pawed
to enclose their shapes.

As wakefulness pours
in with the light
and lifts me away,
every morning finds this
silted heart souffléed.

© Sara Dias

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